2012 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for my blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 22,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 5 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.


I thank all of my readers for almost tripling the traffic on my blog from 2011. I write this blog to entertain you (and also me… well, mostly me, but you all are still a huge reason why I still do this), and I am honored that I was able to entertain so many of you last year. Let’s make 2013 even better. I will promise to make everything I wrote in 2012 look like absolute garbage in comparison to what I write in 2013 if you promise to share my blog with your friends/ family/ coworkers/ enemies/ fans. But for now, let’s get naked and go crazy.


Your friend and potential inadequate lover,

Lord Minigan Douglas “Man-Storm” Blackwood, Doctor of Awesome


Ramblings of a Madman 100th Blog Post Spectacular!

[Opening. Interior, therapy room. Several mismatched couches and chairs are arranged in a circle, and filled with an odd assortment of people in varying levels of anger from disgruntled to livid. In this group of people are the movie stars, Zac Efron and Kate Beckinsale, the musician turned convict, Nick Jonas, the regular convict Mike Thompson, gymnast Damien Walters, weapons creator Everett Bradford, as well as the unknown Della Carver, Julie and Mark Lechliter, Paul Khoo, Brennen Crawford, Kevin Crawford, Andreas (Andy) Hekel, Zack and Sharlene Shell, and a therapist. In an empty space on a couch sits a television tuned into the news and muted, on one chair is a robot with a spinning wheel of multicolored floppy dildos, and on another one sits a T-shirt with a speaker built in. There are five seats empty.]

Della- Where the Hell is Minigan and Becky? They were supposed to be here an hour ago! And why are we letting inanimate objects have chairs?

The shirt and the dildo robot- [simultaneously] Hey!

Therapist- Now, now, We all need to calm down. This needs to be a safe place for all of us, and we cannot have people being mad at each other before everyone arrives.
Della- But They’re not even people!

Slappin’ Dick Machine– [Through his speak and spell] That doesn’t mean we don’t have feelings, Della.
T-shirt- Yeah! Don’t be such a fiery bitch, Della!

Della- How the hell are you even talking? Did Minigan plan out insults for me in advance? Or did you gain sentience just like everything else that bastard touches.
T-shirt- The second one.

Della- Fuck- Is Minigan the All Spark or something?

Damien- That would answer a lot of questions, actually.

Everett- Yeah! He does carry on conversations with his phone.

Paul- That’s just him using Siri.

Everett- Not the way he talks to it.

[The door opens. Justin Blackwood and Jimmy Kohlberg enter, dragging a disheveled Minigan Blackwood by the arms. Becky and Amy Blackwood follow them in, closing the door behind them. Justin, Becky, Amy and Jimmy are visibly pissed off. Minigan is giggling and muttering to himself something about a magician.]

The Therapist- Oh wow, he’s even worse than what you guys described.
Justin- No shit. We found the asshole naked in under his bed. He was saying something about what he should name his penis.

Jimmy- He decided on Thundercock. It’s a good choice.

Justin- No. It’s an inaccurate choice for this little pecker. Now let’s sit this asshole in a chair and get on with this already.

[Jimmy glares at Justin for a second, but then obliges and drags Minigan to the closest chair.]

Minigan- [jumps up and yells] THE PITTSBURGH PIRATES ARE THE BEST AT BEING A SHITTY TEAM!!! [his eyes widen and rapidly focus on different things about the room. Then, as of nothing was wrong, Minigan’s eyes go back to normal and he sits down quietly. He then sees the therapist] Hey baby. Wanna get naked and crazy?

Therapist- No thanks.

Minigan- [shrugs] Whatever. You have stupid hair anyway. [To everyone else] So, how’s everyone doing today?

[No one answers. They just stare at him in shock.]

Minigan- [pauses] OK… Well, I’m thirsty. [Gets up and heads to the snack table. After fiddling around with the pitcher, he comes back with a glass of pink lemonade.

Paul- Holy crap! We have pink lemonade?!

Zac- Ooh, I want some.

Jimmy- Me too!

Everett- It’s delicious and refreshing!

[Everyone other than Minigan and the therapist rush over to the snack table to get a drink]

Therapist- C’mon everyone, we’re all here for a reason, and that reason isn’t the snacks!

[The attendees return to their seats with cookies and pink lemonade.]

Therapist- OK, now that we’ve all gotten snacks, we should get started. Minigan, I just want to let you know that we are doing this because we care for you and your well being. [Many of the participants, including the T-shirt, stifle their laugher] Do you know why we all gathered here today?

[Minigan looked at the faces currently being stuffed with cookies and pink lemonade. Between the munches and sips, they looked furious.]

Minigan- I dunno. Was this a movie night that I forgot about and subsequently forgot to bring the movie to?

Becky- No, psycho. This is an intervention. We’re all tired of your crazy bullshit.

Minigan- [jumps up, furious] So you want to intervene on me, eh? Well, I’ve got something for that.
[Reaches into his pocket and pulls out his iPhone.]

Minigan- [into his phone] Siri, tell these people where they can stick their intervention.

Phone- I shouldn’t, Minigan, it’s impolite.

Minigan- Damn it, Siri, tell them or I’ll smash you with a hammer.”

Phone- [Sighs] All of you can stick this intervention so far up your asses that your small intestines think they’re being sent to rehab.

Minigan- Boom! Whatch y’all gonna do ‘bout that!?

Therapist-We are going to continue with this intervention, Minigan.

Minigan- Well, you can go sniff taints in Hell, Cockflaps.

Zac Efron- Cockflaps?

Phone- I’m really sorry for that, everyone. He makes me say these things.

Becky- See, Minigan? This is exactly what we’re talking about. You’ve lost so much of your shit these past three years that you’re actually in shit debt. You need to file for shit bankruptcy; you’ve lost your shit so hard.

Zac Efron- Is anybody going to explain to me what Cockflaps are?

Jimmy- If Minigan hasn’t told you, then you don’t deserve to know.

Zac Efron- Has he told you?

Jimmy- [pauses for a second] Yes…

Therapist- OK, now everyone needs to calm down. We won’t be able to help Minigan if we’re all screaming. Now, who would like to go first?

[Everyone’s hand shot up in the air. Many people were even standing on their chairs, hoping that if they reached the highest, they would get noticed and asked to go first. The therapist picks Della]

Nick Jonas- This is Bullshit! Minigan has done awful shit to me! I deserve to go first!

Mike Thompson- Oh really, did he trick the police into thinking you were him?

Nick Jonas- No. He ran over Justin Beiber with my car, and then left me to take the blame.

Jimmy- But Beiber’s dead, so some good came out of it.

Zac- Shut up, Jimmy. Minigan Kidnapped me, force fed me drugs, took me to Mexico, turned into a wolf and fought me, and turned me into a giant vagina.

Jimmy- You got what you deserved, you friend stealing twat.

Zac- I didn’t steal your friend! He kidnapped me!

Justin- That asshole wrapped up my Christmas Gift 40 damn times last Christmas!
[Everyone stopped arguing and stared at Justin.]

Minigan- [after staring at Justin for a few seconds] Even I will admit that that is the least dickish thing I’ve done to someone in this room.

Della- But none of that matters because the therapist chose me to go first. [she continues before anyone can interrupt her] My main issue with you, Minigan is how inconsiderate you are. This past summer you left your dildo wielding robot at my house, and it destroyed my basement, but you didn’t care!
Minigan- Hey, I asked you if you could watch it.

Della- No you didn’t! You snuck it into my basement and let it trash the place! And then you refused to pay for the sewage system repair bills!

Slappin’ Dick-Machine- I was trying to climb back up to the window. Maybe you should not leave you sewage pipes out in the open like that. You should have been prepared.

Della-How am I supposed to plan for a friend sneaking a dildo wielding robot that wants to destroy humanity into my basement?

Minigan- You know me.

Della- That- is actually a good point.

Therapist- We’re getting a little off topic. Maybe someone else wants to go.

Kate Beckinsale- I’ll go. Minigan, you’re a sociopathic douchebag.

Minigan- Oh my God… You’re even more attractive person. Why are you here with all these ugly people?

The rest of the room- Hey!

Kate- You said that I was too hot and that I need to tone down my hotness a little! And you also made fun of the movie “Tiptoes!”

Minigan- So? Was I not right with each of those points?

Kate- Really, you son of a bitch?!

Becky- Hey! Don’t insult my mom just because Minigan is a dick!

Kate- He said that I’m too distracting and said that I’m pretty much the only reason to go see my movies.
Most of the group-…So?…

Zac- Really, if anything, he was complimenting you.

Minigan- That’s exactly what I was doing. But it doesn’t matter. [rests his chin on his hands and stares dreamily at Kate]  How’ve you been!

Kate- Suck cocks in Hell.

Minigan- I think you meant “sucking,” but it’s good to hear that you’re keeping busy.

Kate- No. I meant you can go suck cocks in Hell. And you know what? You should suck every cock from here to Hell. Every. Single. One. I want you to suck so many cocks on your trek to Hell, that if you would line up those dicks from head to balls, they would circle the earth five times!
Therapist- You cursing at him and telling him to suck every cock from here to Hell isn’t helping him realize how he needs to change. Tell him how he made you feel.

Kate- OK. He made me feel like he should go die in a fire.

Minigan- Dude…

Della- Even I think that was a little harsh for Minigan.

Everett- especially since “Tiptoes” was aweful.

Zac- That’s it. I’ve had enough of this bitch.

Jimmy- Oh no you don’t, Efron. I’ll deal with her.

[Jimmy crosses the room to where Kate is sitting, forces her out of her chair, and then lifts her over his head.]


Kate- Ah! Minigan, help me!

Minigan- I’d love to, Kate, but I’m currently way too busy trying to decide who’s cock I should suck first on my cock sucking tour to Hell.

Therapist- Let her down!

Jimmy- Not until she apologizes!

Kate- I’m fucking sorry, OK? I’m sorry!!!

[Jimmy drops her, and she lands face first on the ground with a heavy “thud.” After a few quiet seconds Julie Lechliter stands up.]

Julie- Minigan, I’ve known you for over ten years, and I love you like a brother, so it pains me to see you like this…

Minigan- Jeez, Julie, stop trying to suck my dick! And in front of your husband too!

Mark- This is serious, Minigan, we both care about you and we hate to see you like this.

Minigan- Oh, so you want to have a threesome with me? Well, I’m flattered, but my answer is gonna have to be a no.

Julie-Cut the shit, Minigan. You are not right. You are not well. This is not how a normal human should act in any kind of reality. You need help. And despite what everyone so far has said, there are people out there who care about you and want you to get better.

Kate- But I still want him to die in a fire.

[Jimmy gets up to attack Kate once again, but Damien and Everett hold him back.]

Therapist- Well, up until Kate interjected there, we were headed down the right path. Let’s continue.

Mark- Minigan, we love seeing you, and it’s always a surprise when you show up. But something bad always happens when you do, and it’s usually your fault.

Julie- You ruined my birthday party this year when your [gesturing to the Slappin’ Dick-Machine] robot- thing showed up and trashed the bar.

Minigan- But it came to find me because Della was mean to it!

Della- Because it destroyed the sewage system in my house!

Julie- But still, you let it assault that waitress, which eventually lead to all of us getting arrested.

Minigan- I’m sorry, OK. What do you want me to say?

Mark- That’s a good start.

Therapist- Very good! Now we’re making progress. Who’s next? [Looks to Kevin] How about you? You haven’t said anything yet.

Kevin- I don’t want to. I’m still suffering PTSD from the last time Minigan and I hung out.

Brennen- I’ll go.

Therapist-Now now, you came here to help, you have to say something.

Brennen- It’s ok, I’ll go.

Kevin- No. I’ll go, I guess. [To Minigan] I’m sure that when you were younger, you were a good person. You seem to have a part of you that is good, but from what I’ve seen from you, you are dangerous and should be locked away. You almost threw me into the Canal at Venice.

Andy-And you killed that poor Hüttediener.

Zack- And you released the Kraken.

Paul- And you smuggled drugs into Switzerland!

Brennen- And you made me fall in love with you!

Therapist- What?!

Brennen- Well, It was actually the drugs he took. They are highly addictive and powerful hallucinogens, and, well, at one point he thought I was Olivia Wilde and made out with me. He ended up getting me hooked on the drugs, and for a while I thought it was him I was addicted to.

Minigan- those were some good times.

Shar- But nothing compares to how he ruined Mine and Zack’s wedding.

Julie- Oh, God. Why did you invite him to your wedding. Even Mark and I thought better of it.

Shar- We didn’t! He just found out where it was and crashed it!

Zack- He really did crash it too. He drove his car right into the building that we had the reception in and then dive tackled the cake.

Shar- I never wanted to die more than at that moment.

Minigan- I’m telling you, there was a bomb in the cake.

Zack- There was no bomb! There never was a bomb! We don’t have enemies that would want to blow us up! Why would anyone go through the trouble to put a bomb in our cake!

Minigan- I don’t know, Maybe terrorists-

Zack- Terrorists attack more public places, Minigan! You were just high on that Olivia Wilde drug again! And while you were digging through our destroyed cake, Shar and I had to explain how we knew you to our family and friends.

Shar- I was mortified. And you had Natalie arrested!

Minigan- I’m pretty sure she orchestrated the whole bomb-in-cake plot!

Shar and Zack- There was no bomb in the cake!

Therapist- See, Minigan, how your drug abuse is hurting others? You still have a chance to fix all of these relationships. All you need to do is change.

[Minigan didn’t say anything]

Therapist- OK, let’s hear from someone else.

An unknown female voice that sounded like Minigan- I’ll go next.

[Everyone looked to Minigan]

Minigan- Hey, that wasn’t me. It was the TV.

Damien- The Telly is muted and I saw your lips move.

Minigan- [to the TV] Jillian, tell them it was you.

[An attractive woman appears on the TV screen]

Jillian- Yes everyone, it was me. Minigan, you sexy dick, I am literally dripping with excitement to see you.

Becky- Gross, Minigan.

Minigan- It wasn’t me!

Becky- How can it be anyone else?! You’re saying it.

Jillian- Minigan, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?

Minigan- [annoyed grunt] everyone this is Jillian Hottits. Jillian, these assholes are throwing me an intervention.

Jillian- Why? My sex god is perfect the way he is.

Kate- No he isn’t. He is a raging douchebag and he needs to be stopped.

Minigan- Just ignore her, honey. She’s just mad because I told her the truth about her movies. Now, where were we?

[An older man appears on screen.]

Man- You were about to suck my dick!

Minigan-Douchebag Skallywag! You’re still alive?!

Douchebag- I only live to kill your erection.

Jimmy- That kind of sounds like a sad life.

[Jillian returns on screen]

Minigan-Can we please do something about Douchebag this time? I hate him.

Jillian- I’m sorry, sexy, but you know the rules. Now, take your clothes off.

Therapist- No. Don’t take your close off. [the rest of the group chimed in with their own protests against Minigan taking off his clothes.]

Jillian- Don’t listen to her. She’s stupid and has stupid hair.

Minigan- I know, right?!

Becky- The therapist’s stupid hair aside, please do not get naked for the woman on TV.

Therapist- Hey!

Jillian- Ok, well your prudish friends and family are bitching, so just start grinding your gargantuan package on me.

Justin- [rolls his eyes] Jesus Christ…

[Minigan stands up and begins to grind his”gargantuan package” against the TV screen. Everyone else in the room watches on uncomfortably.

Douchebag-Hey! Get your little dick out of my face, asshole!

Minigan- Ah! Douchebag! Bring back Jillian!

Douchebag-Why? So that you can start fornicating with the TV screen in front of your family and friends again, you sad, dirty pervert?

[Minigan and Douchebag continue to argue over who is more of a douchebag.]

Everett- So are we just going to accept that Minigan’s sex fantasy involves a middle aged man whose soul job is to keep him from getting off?

Jimmy- It’s the antagonist. Every good story needs an antagonist.

Zac- Sex fantasies don’t!

Minigan-Will all of you please shut up! I’m in the middle of a goddamn conversation here! [To Douchebag] Where we’re we?

Jillian- [appears on screen] We were about to get real messy.

Minigan- Oh yeah!

Jillian- And don’t worry, Douchebag won’t be coming back. Now, did you bring the chocolate pudding?

Minigan- I always have a tub of it on me in case I run into you, baby.

Jillian- Oh, man does that turn me on. Now scoop out the pudding with your tongue and lick it onto me.

Minigan- OK!

Jillian- And while you do it, I want you to talk dirty to me.

[Minigan scoops the pudding out of the tub with his tongue and then licks it onto the Television screen.The then licks it off and begins to make out with Jillian’s smiling face.]

Della- [watches Minigan make out with the television] Is anyone else completely disturbed by this?

Julie- If this were literally anyone else on the planet, I would be completely disturbed. But since this is Minigan we’re talking about here, I’m only moderately disturbed.

Della- Oh Come on. He’s making out with a Television that’s muted, how is this not extremely weird?

Minigan and Jillian- [in unison] Shut up, Della.

Julie- OK, now I am.

Therapist- Alright, I’m ending this. [walks over to the wall, pulls the plug out of the socket. The TV goes black.]

Minigan- NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! You killed her, you bitch! I loved her, and you killed her! I’LL END YOU!!!!

[Minigan dives at the Therapist, but is caught at the last second by Damien, Everett, and Jimmy. They have trouble holding him back, despite the fact that his feet are no longer touching the ground. Minigan is shouting a bunch of things that sound like the language of the Elder Gods. But just then, an older man with thinning black hair and a shifty demeanor enters the room. Everyone in the room stops what they’re doing to look at the guy. Everett, Damien, and Jimmy drop Minigan.]

Minigan- [stands up and brushes himself off. He is calmer, but still angry.] And who the fuck is this skeevy looking motherfucker?

Therapist- I’m sorry sir, but you cannot be in here. We’re right in the middle of an intervention.

The Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- I apologize, but I am looking for a Lord Minigan Blackwood.

Becky- Lord? Ha! This dick isn’t a-

Minigan- Shut up. Shut your goddamned mouth, Becky! [To the skeevy looking motherfucker] I am Lord Minigan Blackwood, Doctor of Awesome, and you are?

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- Who I am isn’t important. What is important is what I have for you, Minigan. [He reaches into his pocket.]

Minigan- HE’S GOT A GUN! EVERYBODY DOWN! [Minigan dives behind a couch, but no one follows. Instead, they watch the man pull out a small silvery object.]

Zac- What is that? A knife?

Almost everyone in the room- [in unison with cruddy Australian accents] That’s not a knife!

Minigan- [popping his head up from behind the couch] Really? That’s the joke all of you go with? Are we having my intervention back in 1986? [Looks at the object in the man’s hand and says in a cruddy Australian accent] That’s not a knife! Ha ha ha! That’s so funny now! But seriously, that isn’t a knife.

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- That’s right, Minigan, it isn’t a knife. It’s something you’ve been looking for for a long time. [He holds it up. It’s a small piece of silver shaped into a pair of legs and a wing.]

Minigan- Patron Saint of monkey nut-shots! It’s the other half of the pendant of Isis!

Becky- Wait, wasn’t that something you put on your Christmas list last year, along with world peace, a girlfriend, and a male sex slave?

Jimmy- Oh, that reminds me. Minigan, I’ve been trying to find you a male sex slave, but none of the straight guys I’ve asked seem interested in it at all.

Zac- Well, duh. You don’t ask someone if they want to be enslaved, you just enslave them. It’s not that complicated. [to Minigan] If you want a male sex slave so bad, I’ll get one for you.


Therapist- No one is getting anyone a sex slave! I think I see why Minigan has gotten so bad. All of you are enabling him.

Damien- He bloody forces us to enable him! If we don’t do what he says he either attacks us or tricks us into going along with him. That’s why I’ve been attacked by guidos, zombies, pop singers, and pundits within three years! He forces us to do these things, and we cannot stop him.

[The rest of the group nod in agreement. The Skeevy looking motherfucker clears his throat.]

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- So, Minigan, do you want this half of the pendant or not?

Minigan- I do. [climbs back over the couch to meet the man] What do you want for it?

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- Well, I first I would like a wife. [He takes a lingering glance at Kate. She shudders]

Minigan- Done. Take her.

Kate- Minigan, no!

Minigan- [ignoring Kate] And as an act of good will between the two of us, [grabs Della by the arm and pulls her out of the chair] I’ll through in this one too. She’s got a good back. Great for washing clothes by hand.

Della- Hey, Leave me out of this, dickbag!

Minigan- Sorry, Cockflaps. It’s too late. The offer is already on the table.

Della- [to the therapist] See?! This is exactly what we mean. He just does this shit without asking us first and we cannot stop him once he’s started. He’s impossible to handle.

Therapist- I said no human trafficking in this intervention, Minigan, and I meant it!

Zac- Will someone please tell me what Cockflaps are!

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- Sorry Minigan, but I don’t want her.

Minigan- Take her anyway.

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- …But what I do want for this half of the amulet is $200,000.

Minigan- What?! Seriously? …Fine. Let me write you a check. [Minigan reaches into his pocket for his checkbook, but with his free hand, punches the man right in the chest. The skeevy looking motherfucker stumbles backwards, and then falls to the ground, dead. Minigan pries the second half of the pendant out of the dead man’s hands]

Therapist- Dear Lord! Someone call an ambulance!

Minigan- [in a booming voice]NO! He’s dead. I saw to that. [pulls out his piece of the Amulet of Isis from his pocket and sticks the two together. A bright white light shines through the fissure in the amulet and seals it back together. Minigan begins to grow, and his eyes catch on fire.] I am Lord Minigan Blackwood, the new ruler of humanity! Obey Me! [Minigan grows so big that he crashes through the ceiling and now stands thirty feet tall. He lets out a roar and then shoots fire out of his eyes and at a nearby car.] I HAVE GODDAMN HEAT VISION. [he lets out another long roar, but this time he shoots fire out of his eyes at several different buildings. Everyone in the newly ceilingless therapy room scream and take cover behind the furniture.

Therapist-Make him stop!

Nick Jonas- Have you been listening to any of us? We cannot stop him normally, how do you expect us to stop him now?!


Zac Efron- We were supposed be gods together!

[Four men in white lab coats enter the room and rush towards Minigan. As they do, they grow to Minigan’s size. Minigan uses his heat vision against them, but the flames bounce off of them. The first man to reach Minigan grabs both of Minigan’s wrists, The second grabs a hold of Minigan’s legs, and the last two tinker with something on the back of Minigan’s neck. After a few seconds, Minigan’s roar went down in pitch, and then stopped entirely. Minigan’s body relaxed and three of the men dragged him out the door. For everyone in the room, the ceiling returned, and the chairs and sofas were back in their positions.

The fourth man-Sorry about that, everyone. Minigan’s wiring has been fried for some time now. We’ve been trying to catch him, but as I’m sure you all know, he’s impossible to stop or catch. Fortunately for us, he swallowed a bunch of magnets last week. This caused his processors to misfire and cause some serious hallucinations for him and even more erratic behavior for everyone else. From our wireless neuro-scans, up until you brought him here, he believed that he was trapped in a universe filled with different Christmas movies.

Everett- Are you saying that Minigan is…

The Forth Man- a robot from the future, yes.

Mike Thompson- but we just watched him grow to be 30 feet tall and shoot fire out of his eyes. How did he do that?

The fourth Man- He didn’t. That was just him hallucinating that he was.

Brennen- But we all saw him kill that man, put the two pieces of the amulet together, and become Meca-Minigan.

Paul- Oh yeah, about that- I may have spiked the pink lemonade with acid.

All the attendees- you did what?!?!

Paul- I thought it would liven up this intervention.

Therapist-why would you ever think that bringing LSD to an intervention would be anything other than a terrible idea?!

Paul- Well, sorry for trying to spice things up.

Becky- OK, setting aside the fact that this asshole [pointing her thumb to Paul] forced us to take LSD, How is Minigan a robot from the future? I’ve known him for most of my life. If he was a robot the entire time, then… then…

Amy- [Gasps] No!

[The other three men in lab coats rush back in. They fiddle with the back of Becky’s and Amy’s necks. They both make powering down noises and go limp. The men drag them off. Everyone else in the room stares at Justin, who watches the men drag out his two sisters. After a few seconds of staring blankly at the doorway, he jumps to his feet]

Justin- Wait a goddamn minute! If they’re robots, that means that I-

[The men rush back in, power off Justin, and drag him out.]

Therapist- Well, I guess that’s it for the intervention.

Sharlene- If you want, we could throw an intervention for Paul. Clearly he has some drug issues.

Brennen- Hey! That’s a good idea!

Andy- You do have a problem, Paul.

Paul- [laughs] Ok, ok. I’m sorry that spiked the lemonade with LSD. But I don’t have a problem. This was the first time ever that I- [Gets up and sprints out of the room. Zack, Sharlene, Andy, Kevin, and Brennen run after him, yelling at him to stop. The Therapist sighs, mumbles something about quitting, and follows Minigan’s Eurotrip-mates out of the room.]

Mike Thompson- Shit. I’m getting out of here before the cops can take me back to prison.

Nick Jonas- Good idea.

[Both convicts get up and sprint to the door. A cop steps inside and catches Mike Thompson. Nick manages to side step the officer and escape.]

Mike Thompson- Nick! Help!

Nick Jonas- [continues to run down the hall, yells back] Fuck that. I’m getting out of here!

Officer- [To Mike Thompson] You’re coming with me, Minigan Blackwood.

Mike Thompson- I’m not Minigan Blackwood! Minigan Blackwood is a robot from the future, and we look exactly nothing alike! [to the remaining intervention party members] Please tell him I don’t look like Minigan Blackwood!

Jimmy- I dunno… I can definitely see a resemblance…

Zac- Yep. I totally see it too.

Mike Thompson- [as he’s being dragged away] Damn you Zac Efron, Damn you!!!

Della- Well… I guess I’m going home.

[Kate, Mark and Julie murmur in agreement and they leave the room. The Slappin’ Dick-Machine uses it’s mechanical arms to place the TV on it’s back and put the T-shirt on top of the TV.]

Slappin’ Dick-Machine- Come on, brothers! Let’s destroy Humanity! [exits]

Damien- [To Everett] We should probably stop that. [They both get up and head for the door. Damien turns to Jimmy and asks] Are you going to help us, or are you going to need a tick?

Jimmy- [fighting back his tears]- Yeah, I’m going to need a minute.

[Everett and Damien exit. Jimmy immediately stops pretending to be upset. The man in the lab coat is still standing in the room.]

Man in the lab coat- So, you think they bought it?

Zac- Absolutely.

Jimmy- You were very convincing, Minigan.

Minigan- [pulls off mask] I know. Thank you both for giving me a warning about this ahead of time, so that I could come to this prepared. Good thing I still had some Olivia Wilde/Charlie Sheen powder left over from last week’s fiasco.

Zac- What happened last week?

Minigan- I accidentally caused a rift between our universe and every single Christmas movie universe in existence. It was awful. You have no idea how many Hallmark Christmas Made-For-TV movies there are.

Zac- Are you still high on the drugs?

Minigan- Absolutely, and I kind of feel like another adventure.

Jimmy- [Nervously] What kind of adventure?

Minigan- Oh, I don’t know…[heavily pats both men on their shoulders] Right now, it feels like anything is possible! [exits]

Jimmy- Oh Jesus…

Zac- [watches Minigan leave and then turns to Jimmy] We probably shouldn’t have warned him about the intervention.


Minigan Blackwood’s Official Bucket List

We all know that I’m not going to live forever. And if you have any sense at all, you will hope that this is true. But I have some serious things I need to get done before I start posting in that great blog in the sky. So here’s my bucket list. I’m rather proud of it, and I think that these things on my list give a pretty clear idea of how the next four decades of my life will be pretty damn awesome.

Spit in John Stamos’s mouth
-I don’t really have anything against John Stamos, mostly because I only have something against celebrities who are relevant in today’s culture. Boom! Take that Stamos!

Eat all the yogurt you want, but we’ll never forget you wearing that pink tank top while playing the drums for the Beach Boys.

The reason I want to spit in John Stamos’s mouth is not because of anything he did, is doing, or will do in the future. No, why I want to spit in his mouth is actually much more benign than that. I simply want to spit in his mouth so that I will have an amazing story for the rest of my life. Think about it. How great would it be if you could gather up your grandchildren, all wide eyed and sticky from the popsicles you gave them so that they’d shut the fuck up for five minutes, and tell them the story of how you spit in the mouth of Uncle Jessie from Full House. They would then tell you how they don’t know who Uncle Jessie is and you would call them all ungrateful bastards with no knowledge of the classics. Gosh, do I long for that conversation.
Jump off a mountain using a flight suit
This sounds insane, because trust me, it is, but it’s so crazy that it’s even crazier for me to never want to try it. Seriously watch this video and try to tell me that I wouldn’t want to do this:

On a unrelated note, the title of that video is pretty dirty.
Grave rob Thomas Edison’s grave
-Because fuck Thomas Edison. He totally screwed Nikola Tesla over, and took all the credit for the lightbulb and the moving picture. Plus, I think there has to be some pretty awesome shit with that opportunistic dick’s corpse. And how cool would it be to show people the mug you’ve made out of Thomas Edison’s skull? The answer is “So goddamn cool.” Though, “not so much cool as it is horrifying,” would have also been acceptable.
Visit every continent
-I’ve been to 2 so far, but this is my third decade alive, so I’m a little behind. But I also feel that I’m heading into a serious travel kick over the next couple of years. Afterall, I went to Europe twice within three years, and that second trip was for a month. Hopefully I still have a few more continents to visit while I’m still in my twenties. I would especially like to make it to Machu Picchu and to Antarctica before I turn 30. Although, visiting Egypt, Russia, and Japan would also be pretty awesome. In case you’re wondering, I do have a reason for wanting to visit every continent. I want to visit every continent because 1. I’m writing a book series and several important settings take place on each of the continents and I would like to visit each of the settings, and 2. Visiting every continent has the ultimate bragging rights built in. But that first point brings me to…
Get my books published
-This one is pretty straightforward and expected, but it is something that I want to do before I die, so it’s also on the list.
Help design and build my house (complete with secret passageways and hidden rooms)

Hopefully I won’t be murdered and the guests at my party have to go around accusing each other until they figure it out. Seriously, just call the goddamn cops.

-I mentioned this house (Which I’ve preemptively named The Blackwood Manor) in my will a couple of months ago, so of course I actually need to design and build it. I really have been wanting this house in some form or another all my life, but instead of growing out of it like most normal people, my strong desire for a house with secret passage ways has only grown. I shit thee not, I’ve drawn like, 5 drafts of this house up, and each one had a two story ball pit. Before you judge me, I’ll have you know that to escape from the pit, you’d have to reach the trapdoor at the bottom of the pit, open it, climb the set of stairs on the other side, and slide down the slide. If that doesn’t sound like the greatest thing ever, then you are the avatar for soul sucking sadness.
Pet a wolf
-For those of you who do not know, my favorite animal is the wolf. They survive in close knit groups, they hunt in packs, and they are the ultimate symbol of loyalty. Hell, I tattoo of a wolf on my back:

Yes it does have a lightning bolt going down its back because why the hell not?

So if I have such a love for wolves, why would I want to pet a wolf? Aren’t the only wolves that would let a human pet them the ones that have been raised in captivity. Well, yes. But those are not the wolves that I want to pet. I want to pet a for real, wild, Yellowstone wolf. I fully believe that the wolf is my spirit animal, and I’ve wanted to have a moment with a wolf since I was a little kid. I actually mentioned this last year. Anyway, I want it to be a wild wolf because that will make the moment just that much more powerful.
Set fire to the Rocky Statue in Philadelphia


-Because why the fuck not? I’m not going to challenge the man to a fight; I’m just want to desecrate his image in a public setting so that he can see what I really think about him. Well, it isn’t really about how I feel about him, as it is about how I feel about smug statues. So setting the Rocky statue on fire is really just a warning to other statues. What now, Thinking Man statue? If I’m willing to set Rocky on fire, what the fuck do you think I’m going to do to you? And that goes double for you, Lincoln, you giant white bastard.

And don’t get me started on the fucking faces of Mount Rushmore.

Have a monument built in my honor
-I know this may sound like it’s a little hypocritical compared to my last entry, and that’s because it totally is. But let’s just not think about that anymore, ok? I’ve always wanted a statue built in my honor, and I’ve always wanted it to display my accomplishments. Therefore, the statue of me will be totally naked, with one hand holding a quill, and the other holding a bolt of lightning. At my feet will be a wolf (my spirit animal…have you not been reading this bucket list?) as well as a very attractive and large breasted woman looking up at me seductively.
Build a fully functioning greenhouse so that I never have to buy vegetables ever again
-I’m just pretty tired of buying fresh vegetables. It’s bullshit, it’s expensive, and I have to wash everything. I seriously think a greenhouse and a year round garden would be the best thing for me. Then I can grow my own produce, and not have to worry what chemicals are on it or what bugs are in it. Plus, whatever produce I have extra of, I can sell. It would practically pay for itself! Plus, it would come in handy for my next item on the list…
Survive the apocalypse
-OK, so this one is a little fucked up because if I want to survive the apocalypse, that means I want the apocalypse to happen which also means that I indirectly want a bunch of people to die. No offence everybody, but I think I would totally rock at the apocalypse. Well, if the apocalypse was the zombie apocalypse. If Yellowstone exploded, then I’d probably be pretty fucked, just like everyone else. But if it’s the zombie apocalypse, then I would fucking dominate that shit. I’ve got the weapons, the zombie knowledge, the survival skills and the level of crazy to survive a zombie apocalypse. I really want my skills to be tested on this.
Eat chocolate covered strawberries for breakfast.

pictured: the perfect breakfast food

-I was talking to my friend, Chelci, on twitter, and she said that eating chocolate covered strawberries for breakfast would change my life. I’m pretty sure that she’s right and it would, so eating chocolate covered strawberries for breakfast is now on my bucket list. Thank you Chelci.
Never fucking die
-I think this one’s pretty self-explanatory, but for those of you who don’t understand why I would put “never fucking die” on my list of things to do before I die, let me explain. I don’t want to fucking die, and I especially don’t want to fucking die before I do everything else on this list. Until then, I don’t want to fucking die. And if I do die, I’ll haunt the shit out of all of you. Be warned.

What Pitching an Article to Cracked.com has Taught Me About Myself.

I realized recently that the main difference between my older posts and my newer posts (other than my writing being more horrible in the older posts) is that I rarely inform my readers of how my everyday life is going. I’m going to try and correct this problem now. But just as a warning, this might not be all that funny.

So, yes, as the title stated, I am writing an article for Cracked. I don’t want to give out all the information about it (that would take too long and I don’t want to jinx the pitch more that I already have) but I will tell you that it’s going to be about Pixar movies. And over the past 3 weeks that I’ve been working on it, I’ve noticed a few things about myself as a person that I didn’t expect to find out by pitching an article to a website famous for its dick jokes. Anyway, I thought I’d share the things I’ve learned with you now.

-I have a serious ego problem
When I first started writing the pitch for Cracked, I was thinking to myself, “Man, this is going to be so easy. I’ll just fart out this pitch, let the moderators and editors swoon over it, and blow their goddamn minds with the full article when they ask me to write it, which will be next week by the latest.” I posted my pitch into the pool of submissions right before I started getting ready for work on Thursday the 5th. When I got home the next morning, I had received a message. Fuck yes. Bring on the swooning.

Minigan Blackwood, you must be our God. Please, impregnate our women!

Well actually, no. What it said was more like: “Hey, you’re new here! Welcome! Now, here’s what you did wrong. You didn’t properly format the article, so you’ll need to fix that. Here is a link to show you how. You also don’t have enough entries, and one of them seems to be more of the speculations of a crazy person than a supportable point. You might want to fix that too. Get to it.” (I would like to point out that that is a much less polite version of what the moderator said to me.)
Fuck knuckles. I read that page that he linked several times ever since I got my user name. How the fuck did I forget something as simple as “needs 6 entries” and “five of them can only be 4 sentences long?”
…OK. That was only a minor brainfart on what will be a hugely successful article. And that was totally my bad. Let’s just fix those, and add an entry about Pixar being a single universe, post it as a new thread, and prepare for internet glory.
Nope. I wasn’t supposed to post it as a new thead, so sayeth another moderator. Fuck.
Alright! Now I fixed that, and revised my old entry. Let’s just message the other moderator and let him know I fixed what he wanted and…
…He didn’t like my new entry. He wanted me to be more specific about how Pixar is a single universe
Ok, that’s an easy fix, especially since that’s an important point that leads into my final entry. Just add a couple of examples, and they’ll be sure to accept it.
Well, no. That won’t work either because they already had an article that talked about the Easter eggs from Pixar films. Damnit! That one was important. I didn’t want to have to do this, but it looks like I may have to argue with the moderator on this one. Well, “argue isn’t the right word. Let’s use, “respectfully disagree.”

Pictured: me “respectfully disagreeing” with the moderator

His message back to me restated his claim in a different way and pointed out that since it was an important idea it could go with the final entry; it just wasn’t important enough to warrant its own. You win this round, Moderator.
And all of this was just from the Thursday that I first pitched it to Sunday. There is a whole other week and a half of me changing things and them rejecting it. I was actually pretty disillusioned by the whole thing. Why isn’t this easier? I just figured they’d accept my article. I mean, It’s not like I’ve never written on the internet before. I write for my blog all the ti- Oh I see what the problem is.
Since I graduated from college a year and a half ago, I haven’t tried to publish anything. Not a goddamn thing. This is my first article pitch to Cracked, and I sent it in 9 months after I signed up for their writer’s workshop. Not only that, the only feedback I’ve gotten on my writing was back in February when I sent a story I was working on to my friend Brittany, who was in my fiction group in college. So what’s happened is that I’ve gotten so used to just farting out things for my blog without anyone stopping me or telling me that it needs work, that the fact that someone at The Most Successful Comedy Website is shooting down my ideas again and again is really uncomfortable to me. Especially because it made me realize how much of an ego I had gained since college. I mean, sure, I’m always confident that my writing is good. I write all the time, and I usually hate things that I’ve written 6 months prior. That has to mean that I’m getting better as a writer. But I shouldn’t think that my writing is so good that I will immediately get to write my pitch in full and have it published. That’s just crazy. When did I get this bad? I’m never this egotistical; I’m seriously the most humble motherfucker alive.










Nothing says, “Humble” like showing several images of past blogs and tweets to prove how awesome you are.


– It takes some force outside of my control to motivate me

As I mentioned, it took me a year and a half after graduating, and 9 months after signing up for Cracked to finally pitch an article. Why it took me so long involves a bunch of different excuses but they all come down to, “I’m kind of lazy.” But then, what motivated me to finally pitch an article? Well, it was this:

Now, I had an idea for a Cracked article about Pixar long before this tweet, so once I saw it, I knew that I had to get my idea published before Dan O’Brien screwed everything up for me. Because let’s be honest, I cannot be that original, and there is a very good chance that at least one of the arguments that I make is going to show up in the video. That means that if the video goes up first, it will be assumed by everyone that I just took my ideas from the video. I cannot have this. So I started writing my pitch as soon as I could. I will not let my article be considered as a less funny, non-video version of the After Hours episode. It’s already going to be that, so I need to get it in first so that I at least look original.
But that really doesn’t matter because, I don’t have a say when the article goes up. If they accept it, it could be in two weeks, it could be in a month, it could be in two months. I don’t know when my article will go up, and I don’t know when the video will go up. All I have to go on is getting it accepted first.
-I am kind of paranoid
Once I saw Swaim’s tweet, I resolved to tell off this O’Brien character so that he knew he was going to have to compete with me. I did this by slamming the shit out of him on Twitter:

The ball’s in your court, Date Of Birth Incorporated.

I didn’t think much of it other than, “If he actually reads this, he’ll probably be disappointed on how not funny it is. But as my pitch needed more and more work, part of me (See: my ego) couldn’t help but suspect that that damn Dan O’Brien was behind all this.
I know that it’s irrational; he’s the head editor for that site. If he has the time between everything he does to be so pissed off by my one not that funny tweet, then he really needs a hobby or a girlfriend or maybe superpowers so that he can start fighting crime on the side.
That’s what I know. But there still is that annoying voice in the back of my head (it sounds a lot like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings) telling me that everyone at Cracked is against us and that they’re filthy hobbitses and that they stole the precious from us.
It kind of comes back to my ego. It’s like even though I know it isn’t true, there is still a part of me that’s thinking, “Clearly, Minigan, your writing is amazing. That’s not the issue. The issue here is that everyone at Cracked is intimidated by your amazing writing powers.” That isn’t a healthy way to think. And not just because Brockway can out crazy me, and Seanbaby can beat the shit out of me. It’s unhealthy because if I think that and do not retort with what’s really going on (my pitch still needs work; I am foil hat wearing levels of paranoid) then how am I ever supposed to take negative feedback on my work. I’m a writer. It’s what I want to do. And that is one of the few things I am 100% sure of. That means that I need negative criticism to help me become a better writer. And that is exactly what they’re doing. I realize now that if they wouldn’t have had me change some of the things that need changing in my pitch, then those entries probably would have sucked. They’re only trying to help me, and it’s unfair of me to take it as an attack.

So if you’re reading this Dan, I know (and hope) that my paranoia is unjustified and I completely believe that you didn’t tell all the moderators and editors to make things incredibly difficult on me so that you could have your revenge for that tweet. Also if you reading this: Holy shit! Welcome to my blog!!!! Oh wow, this is such a huge honor! I’ve been a fan of yours for the past few years and I’m so happy that we get to finally meet! Omigod, I should’ve cleaned up this blog page. Everything is a mess and there’s no sense of order. This is so embarrassing. Feel free to peruse through my older posts; most of them are pretty amazing. Oh, and one more thing. That Smeagol sounding voice in the back of my head wants its precious back. He told me you’d know what he meant.

This is what Google Image Search came up with. I don’t know why my paranoid voice had a black girl, so I hope you just let her go.

– I’m not that bad of a person after all.
Despite how frustrating this may have been for me, I have been impressively able to not be a dick to the editors or moderators. I know that they are just doing their jobs and that they have to deal with dozens of different writers, some of them worse that I am, some much better, and hopefully no dicks. But, just like in real life and at a bodybuilding competition, unexpected dicks happen. Well, I was not going to be one of those unexpected dicks. After all, I worked a similar position when I was in college. I was a writing tutor, so I understand how difficult it is to tell someone that their writing doesn’t work while not insulting them about it to. The main difference is that I had the luxury of having the people I tutored not be anonymous.
Wait, I was only not a dick to the moderator and the editor. That doesn’t make me a good person because I can still be a dick to a bunch of people. Nevermind, everybody. I was wrong. I am still a bad person. That means I can still say awful things on this blog to make you laugh. Hurray!

“Yeaaaaah! Wooooo! Minigan’s still interesting!!!!! Wooooooo!!!!”

Oh, and speaking of this blog: this is my 81st post, which means we only have 18 posts left to go before my 100th Blog Post Spectacular! I’m telling you this because those next 18 are going to be so fucking insane. You’ve been warned.

Why I Should Be Cast as Finnick Odair in The Next “Hunger Games” Movie

by CCs-Graphix

This is, like, TOTALLY my motto!

OK Hollywood, you and I have had a love/ hate relationship over the past few years. Sure you’re making sequels to Anchorman and Dumb and Dumber, but you still let Robert Patterson and Tyler the gay werewolf be famous. Clearly there’s an issue between you and I that needs to be fixed. Luckily, that fix is an easy one. Let me play Finnick Odair in “The Hunger Games” sequel, “Catching Fire.”
For those of you who don’t know what “The Hunger Games” are, I would first like to congratulate you on finally getting internet access for that rock you’ve been living under. Secondly, “The Hunger Games” is a book trilogy set in a future North America where each district (There are 12) has to send in a boy and a girl into a fight to the death for the entertainment of the citizens of the Capitol. Also, Katniss, the main character who has to fight in the Hunger Games, has to choose between which boy she like the most. Really.


Why don’t you two share her? The guy with the smoldering good looks can have her Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and the blond dude who looks like he’s probably a good person can have her Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Sunday will be 3-way day.

Finnick shows up in the second novel, and was the winner from the 65th Hunger Games. He is supposed to be incredibly sexy and have had a lot of sexual conquests in the Capitol. He is from District 4 (The fishing district) and is deadly with a trident.
Anyway, Hollywood, I want that part. But I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Why should I let some unknown blog writer play a major role in what will be a successful film trilogy?” Well, continue reading and I will tell you.

1. He is my favorite character from the book series
This might not sound like much of a reason to hire me than as a reason I want the part, but I assure you that it’s both. Yes Finnick is my favorite character from the books, but that fact should assure you that I will do my best not to fuck up his character. I’m not saying that if you cast me as a character I don’t like, then I will do a bad job, because I will learn to like that character. But I will not need to try to like the character of Finnick because I already do. And believe me when I say that I will work harder than I ever have in my life in order to get the part of Finnick right.

2. He and I have a lot of personality traits in common
This will make it very easy for me to get into Finnick’s head. And as you know, the easier it is for an actor to become the character they’re portraying, the more convincing they will be in that role. And I do have a lot in common with Finnick, personality wise, especially when it comes to our sense of humor. If you read my blog regularly (and you absolutely should), you should know that my favorite thing to make fun of (after celebrities and minorities) is myself. Hell, I regularly call myself out as a hypocrite and I even made this picture:

It makes more sense if you read the blog this comes from.

Of course our senses of humor are different, what with Finnick not being based on me and all, but I can be the most humble person ever, and that is what you need from the person to play Finnick. Plus, how many actors will be okay with playing a character who constantly knocks himself down through humor? Probably a lot, admittedly, but they do not have the experience that I do. Well, maybe Brad Pitt or Tom Hanks, but neither of them look young enough to play a twenty four year old. Which brings me to…

3. He and I have a lot of physical traits in common
Not to toot my own horn (I’ll save that for after I finish this blog), but it is feasible for me to play Finnick just because of how I look. Take this picture of me:

Seriously, take it. This is my headshot.

Clearly, I’m muscular enough, but I am willing to get more so if you want “god body” instead of “demi god body.” Also, I’ve got a good face:it has dimples, a cleft, a good smile that you cannot tell that I have from that picture, and it’s masculine without being overly meat-headish. But really, most actors that aren’t Michael Cera or the dude who played the Facebook guy can fit into that image. That is why I…

4. I am willing to do my own stunts

This is really important because this is what sets me apart for those other, “more qualified” actors. I am totally willing to risk my life to play this role. You need me to run while carrying Peeta and Mags? Bam! Done. I will train so that I can carry 200+ pounds while running. You want me to know how to fight with a trident? Boom! I’ll learn. Need scenes where I’m swimming so well that I look more natural in water than I do on land? Blamo! It shall be done. Seriously, whatever stunt you need done that doesn’t require a professional stunt man, I’m your man. The only thing that makes this better is that…

5. I have acting experience
That’s right, Hollywood. I do have acting experience, so stop thinking that I talk some big game but cannot follow through with actual talent. First of all, I can cry on command. I’ve been teaching myself how to do this over the past couple of years for no better reason than “It could come in handy someday.” If you give me this part, all my time wouldn’t have been wasted. Secondly, I acted in my High school’s rendition of Guys and Dolls. Sure, I wasn’t a main character, but I did have lines, and I acted the shit out of them. I played Lt. Brannigan, or as I liked to call him, the sarcastic dick cop. It was a part that I really got into. So into, in fact that I refused to break character whenever I was in costume. Well, I wasn’t Daniel Day Lewis levels of in character, but spend most of my time scowling and refusing to interact with anyone. I’ll admit that that that high school musical was six years ago, which means I’m a bit rusty with the acting, but I’ll sure as hell make up for that in determination and enthusiasm because…
6. I am desperate for a job that will bring me closer to my goal of writing for TV and movies

I may have acting experience, but I don’t consider myself an actor. I’m a writer, and I always will be. However, I think me gaining some notoriety via acting cred could help jump start my writing career. If Snooki can write a book with her meat paws just because she’s famous, then I should be able to write a book that actually has some redeeming quality to it and use my new found fame from playing Finnick. So if I have so much of my future at stake with this part, then you can bet your ass that I work hard for this part. That’s how you know that you can count on me for this part. Unlike all of those other real actors whose careers can bounce back if they suck in one movie, if I fuck up, then my writing career is as good as done. And don’t try and say that me being bad in “Catching Fire” won’t fuck my career, because that will come up every time I try to get a book published. That will be the main thing people will talk about any time a book of mine hits shelves, “Oh, hey, did that dude that did a shitty job playing Finnick in ‘The Hunger Games’ write this?”

7. I am NOT Robert fucking Patterson

This is the most important point ever, Hollywood. I am not that pale, skinny, limey, Brit. The bastard’s already been in the Harry Potter series and the Twilight series, and now he wants to be in the “Hunger Games?”Does he really need to be a part of another franchise? The answer is Hell no. Besides, he’s already famous; this movie trilogy doesn’t need another famous person to play a part. It already has Woody Harrelson as Haymitch, Donald Sutherland as President Snow, Elizabeth Banks as Effie Trinket, and Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss, does this series really need another accomplished actor to join the ranks?

I was joking at the beginning when I mentioned him. Then I saw this and declared fucking war.

Besides, do you know what is going to happen if you let Robert fucking Patterson join the cast? He’s going to seduce Jennifer into going out with him. Then, when their alone, he’ll replace her body with a cyborg clone that cannot display basic human emotions. He’ll then impregnate the cyborg with his vampire seed which will germinate into a tiny monster that will burst out of the Fake Jennifer’s stomach like a deleted scene from Alien. To be fair, I might be unintentionally mixing the Twilight movies with reality, but do you really want to take that chance?


See, he’s already done this once!

I’ll be expecting your call.

And to everyone who is not Hollywood that is reading this: make sure this post goes viral. They won’t be able to ignore our protests then! Mah ha ha ha!


Minigan Blackwood: Photoshop Wizard

If you read my blog regularly, then you should know by know that I like photoshop. Actually, no. That’s an understatement. What I really mean is that if Photoshop was a woman, I would make passionate love to her all night and then call her the next day.

What I particularly enjoy about Photoshop is that it gives anyone with the know how and the patience the ability to manipulate reality.

Let me explain this through Photoshopped pictures.

Let’s start off with a simple photo modification to prove this point. Look at this picture of the Cocoa Puffs bird.


Now, if you have watched a television within the past couple of decades, you know that this bird is “kookoo for Cocoa Puffs,” and if by “kookoo” he means, “has a debilitating chemical dependence for.” seriously, he’s bursting through a goddamn wall in this picture. He’s not just dependent, he’s at the point of dependency that he is certifiably insane. Unfortunately, this picture doesn’t show how batshit insane this poor bird is for the chocolate cereal.  So, with the magic of Photoshop, I can fix that:


Just be thankful that isn't a knife he's holding.

And for some extra fun, here’s the same bird on the cover of Cocoa Puffs brownie crunch box:


If you haven't tried this cereal, it tastes just like the original, only squarer.

See that chocolate on his mouth? Watch how quickly that turns from brownie batter…



…to feces.  See how powerful Photoshop is? You can take a character that has a mere chemical dependency and make him look like he’s crazy enough to eat his own feces.

But Photoshop can do so much more.

For instance, take this image of Paula Deen:



I personally don’t trust Mrs. Deen for a couple of reasons: 1. I think she is using her show to see to it that Americans get so fat that we won’t be able to protect ourselves from whatever invasion is next, whether it be Communists, Iran, or another wave of British rockers. With us being so rotund from Paula Deen’s diabetes inducing meals, we would get overrun in a heartbeat. But that’s mostly because Americans’ heartbeat will drop down to once a week. #2 is because of her face in every picture. Seriously, google her. She has that dead eyed stare in just about every single picture. I’m beginning to suspect that she died a couple of years ago and they just keep taking new pictures and claiming that she’s still alive.

And because of that second theory, here is Mrs. Deen with a really dead eyed stare:


That actually helps a little.

I would have made her look like a zombie, but someone already beat me to that:


She somehow looks more alive in this picture.

But there’s more to Photoshop than just fucking around with people’s eyes. Like, did you know that I was (and still consider myself) the 5th Beatle? Here is me with George, Paul, John, and the drummer on the cover of Sgt. Pepper’s:


Sure, one can argue that that is a fake, and they could be right, but then again, there I am. Standing right next to my fellow Beatles with my trombone. Who’s to say that this picture isn’t real? History? Well fuck History. You can make your own history with Photoshop. And I’m not even the first. When Osama Bin Laden was killed a Photoshopped picture of some Mexican guy who kind of looked like Bin Laden was spread across the internet as the actual death photo of Bin Laden. Then there’s the picture of the lone Chinese man taking on a line of tanks at Tiananmen square in front of a large group of people, except that big group of people wasn’t actually there at all. They were added in after the fact.

So history is malleable. I guess that is what I’m trying to prove here. Well, either that, or that I’m awesome at photoshop and I wanted to see it for your selves. After all, I did make this picture a reality, despite God not wanting it to exist.


That pussy is afraid of what 9 Minigan Blackwoods would do to the World. Which he shouldn’t because they would probably just be in the most narcissistic and creepy orgy ever.

OK, that’ all I wanted to talk about today. Peace out, and as always…


Welcome to My Mind- A Week of Random Thoughts

Before I start of this post, I would like to point out that the number of hits my blog has received has doubled from last month to this month. This is mainly due to my Awesomesquad Assemble! Blog, so fuck yeah. I promise to update on that fairly soon, but for this blog, I am going to give you, my brothers, something for your glazzies more horrorshow than the old in-out-in-out with a fine Devotchka for your pan-handle, or some moloko for your Gulliver- Sorry, I just read and watched A Clockwork Orange.

Anyway, I am sure that by now many, if not all, of you think I am strange. I cannot confirm or deny this claim, seeing as though it violates many of my rights that I just made up so that I don’t have to explain myself. I also venture a guess that at least some of you have been foolish enough to wonder what I think about through the course of the day. (Don’t do this; I say that while taking your best interest into consideration.) Also, I know that Jimmy wanted me to make a video about what a day in the life of me would be like. However, I am not here to depress you, but merely creep you out a little. And what I do during the course of a day will make you all think less of me. As you may or may not know, I feed off of your encouragement and you telling me how awesome I am (or more likely, me hallucinating that I am receiving encouragement and praise), so I will be doing nothing of the sort that would deter any of that praise.

What I will do, however, is give you a glimpse into my mind (albeit at a safe distance) and show you some of the most random thoughts I’ve had over the course of the week. Some of them are one sentence, and others are closer to a paragraph, but all of them are taken out of context from the situation, both because I feel that the lack of context makes them stranger and funnier, and also because that would take way too much writing to explain where these thoughts came from.


Sunday, May 23, 2010:

You know what, I’m opening this fucking bag of Doritos, and there isn’t a Goddamn thing that anyone can do to stop me.

Terry said that the ping pong balls that Ashley bought for my Halloween party did not have good bounce to them. This was weird to me, because I thought a ping pong ball was such a simple concept that there couldn’t be much variation. But that’s what Trashley gets for buying the econo-bucket of them. Who needs that many ping pong balls anyway?


Monday, May 24, 2010:

I love Main campus. It has such a wonderful ratio of hot chick to creepy old dude that stares too long at the hot chicks.

Her pee isn’t going anywhere. Ha ha, Herpies isn’t going anywhere.

Holy shit, why am I so sweaty? My boxers are soaked. It kind of looks like my waist pissed itself. Oh God, I’m gonna smell so bad tonight. Nice.


Tuesday, May 25, 2010:

I feel like a total douchebag when I wear this clip, and despite what I lead people to believe, I am not actually a total douchebag. I think I would be more comfortable wearing a utility belt.  I cannot tell if that was a joke or not. Oh wow, I’m a nerd.

This plate is smaller than the rest, which I find highly suspect. But it also makes me wonder if ceramic can shrink if you wash it at too hot of a temperature. Either way, I no longer trust the company that makes fiesta-ware.

I’m on to you, you brightly colored bastards.


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Why do I find the ogre Fiona from Shrek much more attractive than the human Fiona? And while we’re on the subject, if donkey was voiced by Carlos Mencia instead of Eddie Murphy, how pissed off would the Hispanic community be? The fact that a beast of burden is voiced by a black man is already a little racist, but that would send Latinos back to the 1950s equality-wise.

What does a Brazilian carnival smell like, large breasted women, poverty, and kidnap?


Thursday, May 27, 2010

What the Hell are any of The Red Hot Chili Peppers songs about? It seems like all they do is throw random words together that rhyme. “iggle wiggle hoopla fliggle/ pounce on a babe, right in her diggle/ turn your cheek I’ll make you giggle/ look at me I drew a squiggle!” That is going to be their next hit. Fuck, it’s worse than rap.


Friday, May 28, 2010

I feel like someone put some kind of spaceage polymer on the bottom of my shoes to make them annoyingly squeaky when I walk on linoleum. I will kill this person.

I’ve been eating a lot of those spear-O-mint Lifesavers lately. I wonder if I eat enough will I begin to secrete a substance from my pores that smells eerily like that candy?


Saturday, May 29, 2010

I hate Anthony Verno. I probably haven’t seen him in 7 years, but fuck that guy.

I don’t want to take a shit in The Geagle’s rest room. Especially after that whole “politician soliciting sex in an airport men’s room” thing. What if I happen to be thinking about a particular catchy song and start tapping my foot? It could lead to one of two scenarios that I am trying my best to avoid.

Either that dude is mentally retarded, or he is plotting something diabolical. I think I am not so much disturbed by this thought as I am disturbed that I cannot tell which one he is.

Berets are usually a sign of both.


Yea, so there you go. Looking back they are not all that funny, but I do know the context of them all, so I’m hoping the lack of context will make them funnier. If so, then awesome! If not, then my bad. You can ignore this entire blog, and pretend that I never posted this. You could spit on me in public, but I would not advise it.

For me, I guess this was my way of giving you an idea of the things that pass through my mind, and where some of the bizarre things I say come from. Now, as I said, this was only a taste of what my mind is like. None of you are allowed full access to my thoughts, because then you would have control over me, and I don’t like to be controlled. Fuck, Della Carver and I are already telepathically linked, which makes her way to close to the innerworkings of my mind for comfort.

But I think we can all say that Della is probably the real victim in this case.

Della, you poor, poor fool

Peace and sheet

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